Enough
by Girl With a Pearl Earring
Summary: A simple moment between Naminé and Roxas. AU Rated K for anyone and everyone.


A/N: Not my best work by far, but just a little something I needed to get out of my head. The think the thing I love the most about this pairing is the simplicity factor, which is what I tried to get across in this. Thanks for reading and please review, I'd like to know what you think. Enjoy!

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It had been raining all day, a downpour of heavy droplets so large their weight caused them to slide down the window as soon as they touched the glass surface. One of Naminé's slender fingers traced the pattern of a slow moving drop as it cautiously eased its way to the bottom sill. She was so caught up in her task, she didn't notice two large drops falling quickly down the window towards her own hesitant drop. As they overtook the smaller drop, all three mingled into one fat raindrop that streaked straight downwards and out of sight.

Her fingertip remained where it was, seeming paler than usual in the bleak colors of the rain. Finally lifting the finger, she examined the fingerprint on the glass, faint as it was. When this task was also exhausted, she sighed and looked down at her unfinished drawing. A seemingly fathomless pair of pencil lead eyes stared back at her underneath one gray eyebrow and a few strands of wispy hair sprinkled with eraser shavings. Half an hour after she had started and that was all she had drawn: two eyes, an eyebrow, and some hair. And she still couldn't figure out who she was drawing.

Wiping the erasures off the page, she cocked her head at the unknown boy. He seemed like someone she knew, but at the same time she was sure she had never seen him before. At least not in the way she was drawing him. This kind of thing had happened to her before, but not in quite the same way. She had drawn a picture of her friend Kairi through a moment of inspiration, but she hadn't realized who she had drawn until Riku had pointed it out. It had been an odd feeling. And while this feeling was similar, it was also very different.

Shaking her head, she set her drawing pad to the side and stretched in her seat. She didn't really feel that she would finish the boy any time soon. Her moment of inspiration had vanished as soon as it had come, though she was sure it would return.

Getting up, she realized the rain had finally slowed to a drizzle with the heaviest drops only falling from the palm trees and the overflow from the roof gutter. Struck by a sudden desire to feel the cool air on her skin, she grabbed her sandals and umbrella. About to turn the front doorknob, she paused, staring back at her abandoned drawing.

Even while admitting that it would probably crinkle from the damp air, she tucked it under her arm and walked out into the street.

The outside world was heavy with moisture and heat, a comforting reminder of nature and life. Naminé, feeling childish but happy, twirled around in a circle, watching the drizzle of rain glance off her umbrella and fall in a spiral around her. Smiling, she started down the narrow road toward the center of town.

Small, giggling girls in sundresses chased the sparkling rainwater as it dripped down onto their waiting tongues. Two older teenage girls walked under a single large umbrella, conversing happily with their heads together. An ambitious young boy attempted to skateboard down a homemade wooden ramp slick with water. As Naminé turned onto the main street of town, she was greeted by a riot of colors from the rolled out rain covers decorating each store front, each competing for customers' attention with their own unique design. She spotted several of her school mates sitting at tables or huddling in the driest corner they could find while trying to wring out sopping wet hair.

Pausing to return the greetings of several familiar faces, she felt a sudden warmth on the back of her legs. She turned to find that the afternoon sun had surfaced above the clouds, setting the raindrops ablaze with thin beams of clear light. She shielded her eyes from the unexpected brilliance and, quite suddenly, froze. One foot was still balanced on the edge of her sandal, the heel raised high in a somewhat ridiculous pose, her left hand still hovering over her forehead, the fingers splayed in a gesture of surprise.

It was him. Roxas. The boy on her sketchpad.

The sunlight caught the few water droplets in his hair and made every strand gleam in a way Naminé hadn't thought possible. He wasn't laughing with the rest of his group, just standing there quietly with a very small amused smile on his lips and in his eyes.

So she had been right. She knew Roxas, had known him for almost a full year now. She knew what he looked like, how he acted, what he was likely to say. But she had never truly seen him. Not like this.

And suddenly, she understood. She compared her half finished sketch with its penetrating lead eyes to the real Roxas with his quiet warmth, and she understood.

Obviously feeling someone watching him, Roxas glanced up to look at Naminé, taking in her look of enlightened surprise complete with her absurd pose. Blushing, Naminé nodded quickly, attempting to move her foot and hand back to a normal position without catching sand in her shoe or dropping her drawing, but only succeeding in making a hasty, ungraceful exit.

Some time later, having added the finishing touches to her drawing of Roxas, she wiggled her bare feet in the wet sand of the beach with her dirty sandals laying several feet behind her in an undignified heap. She looked at the drawing cradled in the handle of her umbrella next to her and decided she had never drawn anything that she liked so much before, even if the paper was crumbled and water stained. 

She was so focused on her creation that she didn't hear the soft crunching of sneakers in the sand nor did she realize someone was sitting next to her until he softly cleared his throat. Starting slightly, she looked to her left to find Roxas narrowing his eyes at her drawing with an indescribable expression on his face.

She felt her throat get slightly dry and her nose suddenly seemed intent on picking up every aspect of the salty smell of the ocean in front of her.

After a long moment of disquieting silence, he extended his hand expectantly toward her. She blinked at it several times before slowly handing him her pad of drawing paper. Determined to draw some comfort from the moment, she dug her hands into the sand behind her, leaning hard on her palms and feeling the grains dig between her fingers and scrape against her skin.

Another few moments later, she felt a pressure in the sand next to her left hand and realized Roxas had assumed the same position she was in, the drawing secure on his lap. As she trailed her gaze slowly up to his face, he looked at her and smiled the quiet smile he did every day.

Only for her.

And it was enough.


End file.
